


like a shotgun needs an outcome

by merrymegtargaryen



Category: The Spanish Princess (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuckolding, Cunnilingus, F/M, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28975530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/pseuds/merrymegtargaryen
Summary: The scene where Alexander and Hume burst in on Meg and Angus but make it smutty.
Relationships: Margaret Tudor/Alexander Stewart
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	like a shotgun needs an outcome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [itslaurenmae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itslaurenmae/gifts).



> Hi I'm garbage but what else is new?
> 
> Thank you as always to itslaurenmae for enabling and betaing <3

_ “And I will want you ‘til the sun goes down o’er all of time _

_ Until that day, will you be mine?” _

Meg kisses her new husband, less out of ardor for his poetry and more out of a desire to silence said poetry...and put his mouth to better work. 

It isn’t that she isn’t appropriately flattered by the poetry her husband spouts on a moment’s notice. She’s  _ very _ flattered to be the fount of such inspiration! She only wishes her husband would feel a little less inspired to compose spontaneous poetry and would feel more inspired to  _ other _ things.

Their wedding night had, in truth, been less than ideal. It wasn’t  _ bad, _ exactly, but neither was it the sweeping romantic evening Meg had envisioned. James, she has to remind herself, was an experienced lover by the time she came to his bed, where Angus is still little more than a boy. He is so young, her husband, eager to please but too embarrassed to surrender completely. It had taken forever for him to... _ well. _ And when he finally had, it had left Meg disappointed. It had been much the same tonight; she’d spent nearly an hour trying to coax and please him, and when he finally  _ had _ gotten hard, it had only taken a few thrusts before he finished, and Meg had been left disappointed again.

But the third time, as they say, is the charm.

“You are a beautiful poet,” she tells him sweetly, hoping to stroke his ego.

“It is easy with such a muse,” he says earnestly. “Oh, I want to shout it from the Highlands: Margaret Tudor is mine, and nothing will come between us!”

“It cannot,” she swears. “I forbid it. And  _ I _ am queen.” She rises to straddle his hips, hoping to elicit a reaction from him. “Or regent at least. Tell me about her...your muse.”

Angus grins up at her. “I used to hear tales about her as a girl.”

“Mm, virtuous.” She kisses his cheek. “Thoughtful.” Another kiss, this time on his neck. “Devout.” This one even lower.

“Headstrong, stormy, wild,” he declares, giving her a small, playful shake. 

She giggles. “And now? How do you find her?”

His voice softens. “I find that she is a queen not merely in title, but in temperament also.”

Meg kisses him, praying this will lead to the swell of passion she has longed for ever since that kiss in the chapel...but there is a banging at the door, and suddenly, Alexander Stewart is stumbling through her now-open door.

There’s a split second where Meg feels a rush of heat between her legs that has nothing to do with Angus. She cannot help thinking how strong a man must be to break through a locked door like that.

And then Hume lumbers in behind Alexander and her senses are restored. She scrambles off Angus, leaving him to grab the bedclothes and yank them up to cover his nakedness.

“He is here,” Alexander says darkly, and she  _ hates _ what his voice is doing to her right now. 

“So it’s true,” Hume says in a tone to match his compatriot’s.

What do you want?” Angus asks, flushed.

Alexander rips down the bedclothes, revealing Angus’s nakedness as Hume reaches for him. “Get out!”

“Dinna touch me!”

“You cur!” Hume bellows, seizing Angus by the scruff of his neck and dragging him naked from the room. “You have compromised the queen!”

“He has not!” Meg shouts, trying to follow, but Alexander blocks her path, closing the doors behind him. “The Earl of Angus is my husband!”

Alexander’s face flushes with anger. “Not fer long.”

Her own face flushes. “What do you mean by that?”

“If you want te remain regent, you’ll let Hume deal with this.”

“What--”

“We are doing you a favor,” he thunders. “Ye shouldnae have risked the regency fer his wee prick.”

She purses her lips. It  _ is  _ rather small. “Who I take to my bed is my own province.”

“Who you take te bed and who you take te husband are two different things.” 

Meg finds herself flushing again, her eyes drawn inexplicably to his mouth. The warmth between her legs has not left her, nor has her awareness that they are alone in her room after he broke through her door. Unbidden, she thinks,  _ He would not leave me disappointed. _

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, almost as if he can hear her thoughts. “Is that all you were after? Someone te take te bed?”

Her flush deepens. “That is  _ none _ of your concern—”

“It is if it affects the regency.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?” she snarks before she can help it. “When you think about who I take to my bed?”

His eyes darken, and he moves forward so suddenly that Meg slaps him. 

His eyes darken even more, and with a jolt, Meg realizes that he liked it as much as she liked doing it. 

“Do that again,” he says in a low growl that lights a fire inside her, “and I’ll--”

“You’ll what?” she demands, lifting her chin. When he says nothing, she raises her hand to slap him again. 

He catches her wrist, and before she can marvel at how firm his grip is, he, tugs her sharply towards him and kisses her. 

Meg wishes she had it in her to at least put up a  _ little _ fight, but there is more passion in this one kiss than she has had from hours with Angus. What’s more, there’s a promise in this kiss, an assurance that he can do more than Angus can. 

She’s sure this means she’s a wicked little wanton, but at the moment, she cannot bring herself to care. She did her duty for ten long years—surely she deserves some wickedness now?

So she softens against him, humming with pleasure. 

The effect is instantaneous; Alexander releases her wrist, taking her head in his hands as he deepens the kiss. Meg fumbles with his belt, and when she hears the heavy  _ clunk _ of his sword hitting the ground, she pushes the swordbelt aside with her foot. 

He pulls back long enough to tear off his tartan, and then he’s kissing her again, reaching down to lift her. Instinctively, she wraps her legs around his waist, her arms winding around his neck as she kisses him hungrily. He walks the short distance to her bed, lowering her to the rumpled sheets; with her limbs still wrapped around him, he has no choice but to follow.

He moves suddenly, his hands pinning her wrists to the bed. Meg gazes up at him through hooded eyes, her desire so great she can hardly stand it.

“Did you fuck him tonight?” he asks in the same low growl as before.

Unbidden, her hips roll towards his. “Yes.”

“I take it he did not satisfy you.”

“No,” she breathes. 

One of his hands trails down her body, sliding up under the hem of her nightgown. She pants as he finds her center, already slick with want. 

“Did he come inside you?” he growls.

She nods, unable to form words.

The hand at her wrist tightens. “I don’t want you te have another man’s seed inside you when I come.”

She begins to tremble, afraid now that she’s  _ so close _ to getting what she wants, what she’s desperately wanted--

Alexander moves down her body, but rather than leave her, he kneels between her spread legs, dragging her to the edge of the bed.

“What--” she starts to ask, sitting up, but one swipe of his tongue against her center has her falling back to the bed with a groan. Alexander laves her with his tongue, pulling back every so often to spit out Angus’s seed on the ground. Meg cannot believe how much she likes this, Alexander removing every last trace of Angus from her. His tongue is doing more to pleasure her than Angus’s prick ever did. Her hands grip the bedclothes, but Alexander reaches up and takes her hands in his, palm to palm, her fingers digging into his knuckles as he brings her closer and closer.

And then he brings her right to the edge and she comes toppling over it, crying out as her hips buck against his face. He voices no word of complaint; if anything, he buries his tongue even deeper inside her. His tongue is still there when the last wave of pleasure has ebbed, his low hums sending the most delicious vibrations through her.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” she mumbles, already feeling herself building up again.

To her horror, Alexander pulls back. “Do what?”

She gestures vaguely, forgetting for a moment that her hands are still linked with his. “Your tongue. The thing.”

She lifts her head and sees him frowning at her. “No one’s ever…?”

“Put their tongue in me?” she asks bluntly. “No. Should they have?”

Alexander mutters a curse and then buries his head between her legs with renewed vigor. This isn’t just about removing Angus anymore; this is about drawing her taut as a bowstring, coaxing out noises she never even knew she could make. She pants and moans, sweat beginning to bead at her hairline as he works her up to a second climax. 

She comes hard, her thighs shaking around his head. She’s still trying to catch her breath after when he pushes her further up the bed, moving on top of her; a moment later, he’s inside her.

Her back arches immediately, a high, keening noise escaping her throat. Alexander settles fully between her legs, one hand tangling in her hair and tugging her head back. 

“By the time I’m finished with you,” he murmurs against her throat, “you won’t even remember Angus’s name.”

“I don’t know,” she breathes, “I have a very long memory. You’ll have to work very hard.”

She can feel his grin against her throat.

.

Alexander is true to his word: by the time they finally lie spent in her bed, the dawn’s early light creeping in through her window, she doesn’t remember Angus’s name or the fact that he exists at all. 

All she knows is Alexander.


End file.
